It was my dad’s birthday, but I wanted the festivities to conclude early. You see, there was this new television show called "Star Trek" that I wanted to catch and, approaching my tenth year on Planet Earth, I was aging out of "Lost in Space."

I flipped on our glorious black-and-white TV with the bent rabbit ears, hoping for something a little more stimulating than Will, The Robot and that diabolically verbose and more-than-a-little-creepy Dr. Smith. In 10 minutes, I was hooked. A true devoted Trek fan, I was thrilled when the show excelled and forgiving when it faltered.

Over the years, I’ve come to realize that a part of the lasting attraction is that each of the three central characters — dare I say "trinity?" — has an appeal that resonates with you at different stages of your life.

William Shakespeare, the Bard of Avon, famously bequeathed us his "Seven Ages of Man" and, with a respectful nod to the master, I propose to update his concept with the "Three Ages of the Star Trek Fan" — reflecting on 50 years at warp.

Youth: The age of Spock

You would not think that such a stoic, composed, cerebral character would appeal to the very young. Not so. The man was the embodiment of cool.

“I object to you. I object to intellect without discipline. I object to power without constructive purpose,” says Spock to Trelane in the episode "The Squire of Gothos." This said to a dangerously capricious man-child capable of flinging planets about on a whim. Spock, certain of his position, would stand up to any figure, no matter their power or position, with dignity and a verbal arsenal of penetrating force.

Yet, for all his abilities and brilliance, he stands alone and apart. This also appeals to our youthful selves. The world doesn’t really understand me, just like Spock. The cool on the outside masks the turmoil on the inside as Spock battles his half-human/half-Vulcan demons. Yes, we grokked Spock. But then something else hits. Puberty, hormones, interest in the opposite sex. Our own private “pon farr.” Calling James T. Kirk!

Growth: Aspiring to Kirkhood

There he is. All confidence and swagger. Success personified. Handsome, smart, daring, amazingly intuitive and, by the way, captain of the finest starship in the fleet. He’s the space-age equivalent of the sailor with a girl in every port. Kirk enters a room and all female eyes are on him.

What young, inexperienced, stumbling-through-adolescence male could not look up to the guy? My goodness, he even counsels us. “There’s nothing wrong with you that hasn’t gone wrong with every human male since the model first came out,” he says to 17-year-old Charles Evans in "Charlie X."

Really, Jim? You were just like us once? Hard to believe. You do it so effortlessly. You can outmaneuver a pack of Romulan warbirds, convince erratically designed supercomputers to choose suicide and double-talk your way around a planet of 1920s-era gangsters. And you’re the guy who always gets the girl. True, some of them tend to die tragically, but hey, they had their moment with you!

No, you are the summit that our rational mind knows is quite impossible. But we can still dream. Reality can wait, but not for long. Time takes its toll. Age and experience batter our psyches. And in steps the good doctor.

Age: The McCoy we eventually become

"The broken rules ... the desperate chances ... the glorious failures ... and the glorious victories.” That’s Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy musing on love and life in "Requiem for Methuselah." McCoy is the person we eventually become because he is so real, so profoundly human.

He is the "Star Trek" character that often gets it wrong. So do we. He has weaknesses that he occasionally succumbs to. Who doesn’t? He has loved and lost. We share his pain. He is the voice of reason who keeps people grounded. Ever had kids? He can occasionally be crabby, irascible and a little self-righteous. Anyone care to cast the first stone here? This does not make him any less a hero.

He may not be the first person to hurl himself into the fray, but once there he has your back and is ready to bandage it — win, lose or draw. He is passionate about his work and a staunch defender of the weak and helpless. When he commits, it’s all or nothing to him — the gray areas evaporate. Warts and all, he is the best of what we could possibly become as we get older.

As the years go by, the heroes of our youth remain in our hearts and imaginations — occupying some stratospherically high plain. But it’s old Bones McCoy that we can really hope to aspire to. As he might put it:

Dammit, I’m a (fill in to taste), not some femme-luring, phaser-toting, starship jockey or ice-blooded, pointy-eared, pan-galactic encyclopedia!

The fact that one can even conceive of the notion of a "Three Ages of the Star Trek Fan" is a testament to the show’s lasting appeal — one that has endured for me for five decades. "Star Trek" has and continues to undergo changes both good and bad and it can only do that because the basic matter from which it was formed was something rare, special and largely unexpected even by its creators.